The Seeker: rewritten
by HelenTheMoon
Summary: "Tell me Ade, have you ever seen some sort of a shimmering? Like using all senses at once; past, present and future, all connected at the same moment, revealing things unseen to the human eye...". Ade did not understand. He never could with his Captain. Black Flag-Bleeding effect AU. EdwardxCaroline Chapter 3 up! Read and Review!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer : I do not own Assassin's Creed.  
**

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 **Prologue**

Many a person called him an "old soul". A man trapped in a child. The boy would always have that strange look in his sky-blue eyes, staring at the world around him as if he would somehow find the answers to all of life's mysteries, or perhaps he already knew them. His eyes seemed to have seen things beyond the imagination of a child or a common man. None could tell. There was always that… restlessness in the boy, like he was expecting something to happen – something important that would change things – but he did not know _what_ that something was, much less know when it would occur.

The boy was a mystery to his very own parents. He used to ask so many weird questions when he was but a toddler, why did those people were glowing blue and why red, why did the bushes and haystacks glow white, why was that ghost dressed do strangely ("He must have been a Foreigner.", decided the boy and dropped the subject). **[1]** His mother could only pray, for their little boy's blue eyes seemed to turn gold when he asked those questions. And nobody could blame her. It was a natural fear for her son, the person she loved the most in the world, seeing such an abnormality, something so strange, and who was she to declare that this golden glow was not a strange sort of witchcraft? She knew nothing of what was going on with her son and that scared her. She would avoid all questions regarding her son's unusual perks, in a vain hope that if she forgot about the problem, it would cease to exist.

The boy's father however was another matter entirely. He too was an odd man, sometimes leaving from the farm for weeks, leaving his loving wife take care of the child and the sheep on her own, however he was never absent. If nothing, his presence was something elusive, a strange air, akin to the air of a room or a bonfire when some of the old poems were recited. _He_ would not question his child's well-being – whether mental or physical. He would do something completely different instead, obey to the boy's strange whims, often resolved with violence; throw a long stick at the boy, and let him lash out at his father. The boy always had that somewhat focused and yet glazed over gaze in his eyes when it came to that, as if he was fighting out of muscle memory he did not know he possessed. And the father did not question it, never demanded an answer. He was merely testing the waters, trying to figure the mystery of his son on his own. Then again, wasn't the boy trying to do the same in return?

The boy _remembered_ , all of that through the eyes of others. He could remember Masyaf's training grounds, the village bursting with life underneath the great fortress, the massacre outside Acre **[2]** , the three different calls of prayer in Jerusalem, the bustle and hustle of the merchants in Damascus, the white and blue of Cyprus. He could remember the constant noise of the markets, the dry heat and the scent of filth, the sound of at least four different languages in his ears. He could remember the merchants selling their products – carpets, flavourings and precious stones mostly – women chasing after people begging for money, other women walking around with pots on their heads – and that was really an impressive feat of balance – preachers saying whatever it was that they were paid to say in front of the crowds, the guards – with swords and bows instead of muskets – being harsh to everyone. He could remember middle-ages European armors and Muslim getups in the same street.

But the Holy Lands were not the only place that he could recall. The beautiful Firenze –which city everyone in the British Isles insisted on calling the city Florence – with her hopeless romantics, the stinky, dark and mysterious Venezia, the bright and ancient Roma, the nice-little-town feeling of Monteriggioni. He had also found Constantinople –one of many names the city had been branded with over time – to be very similar to Acre; only bigger, brighter and happier. Strange for a city that had just been conquered. The people of all those cities seemed happier, the place full of alluring courtesans, crafty thieves, overly polite merchants, holier-than-thou nobles, the Jesus-so-bloody-annoying minstrels, and the perhaps not so creepy doctors.

Both of those eras are completely different from each other, and from the small town in which the boy lived. He counted the people who lived there lucky, in a way. They had seen and experienced _everything_ , not stuck in one place and one country, like _he_ was. They had both suffered unspeakable tragedies and murdered far more people than anyone cared to – or _could_ – count, but they had lived their lives to their fullest. They were the core of the chaos, the center of the war between Assassin's and Templars in their respective eras.

The boy himself did not feel any real obligation or commitment to the Brotherhood of the Assassin's, but he felt it towards the Creed itself, and knew for a fact that many Templars were to be hated. The whole impression the boy had gotten from the memories of those other men was that the Templars were a whole bunch of control freaks with superiority complex who had not realized that the Crusades were _over_. That shady war was still raging, he could sense it. And that made him restless. Something was itching in him, it made his blood – oh, his _blood_ – a little hotter and pressuring the veins in his wrist in the place where a hidden blade should have been, like a warning from the old gods whose blood he shared; _something was going to happen_ , and _soon_. And Edward as sure as hell was not going to be sitting around Bristol when that happened.

Surprisingly, the boy's "I am not going to sit in one Place." attitude did not bother his father. If anything, after they moved from their home, the father's leaves became shorter, until one day they completely stopped. The mother was brimming with happiness when he had announced that there would be no more unexpected trips, and she had failed to notice the sad look in his eyes. **[3]** As for the boy, he was happy that he now lived somewhere where he could see the sea every day – it was a nice change.

As the boy grew older, his abnormality stopped manifesting in strange visions and became something much more alarming. He had become shockingly mature for his age, asking his elders pointed questions on difficult subject, like he was trying to prove himself a point. And as if that was not enough, he had developed an interest for weapons. His mother felt her heart almost stop when she had caught her thirteen years old son throwing knives on a wall and ALWAYS hitting dead center. He was an unnaturally skilled fighter, like he had years of experience under his belt, unafraid of facing anyone no matter what the odds, because he knew he could win. His mother was very worried and somewhat angry, but the father showed something that could only be called pride when the boy returned home after a fight unscathed.

But the most unsettling thing of all was that the boy _knew_ stuff, and he was waiting for a signal, he was a barrel of gunpowder that could be ignited at any given moment, a restlessness that only the eldest of men knew, like the teenager was awaiting for orders to get to the battlefield.

His name is Edward James Kenway, and he was the fourth of Adam's line. He was the Seeker.

* * *

 **Author note: As promished, here is the rewritten version of "The Seeker!". Any old readers, welcome back. Any new ones, I hope you will like this story! Just so you know, this fanfic is a Black Flag - Bleeding effect AU with hints os Tyranny of King Washington in it, Also, there will be a very strong presence of First Civilization elements which will become stronger as the stroy progresses, though they'll never be the dominant part of the plot. I am planning to write a completely different fanfic regarding _that_ subject, but no any time soon.**

 **[1] In many instances of the AC games, the player is able to view events of the past through Eagle Vision. What Edward was seeing was a vision of Darim, Altair's son, during his time in England after Maria's death (this is cannon).**

 **[2] An actual history fact.** **The Siege of Acre happened just a few weeks before Altair's first in-game visit in Acre. William of Montferrat handed over a whole bunch of hostages from both Acre and Saladin's army to King Richard, who executed them all and dumped the bodies outside the walls of Acre.**

 **[3] The background behind Edward's father, Bernard, is another thing that I will reveal more details about in the future. However you should know, this Bernard has nothing to do with cannon Bernard.**

 **Next chapter: Edward meets Caroline.**


	2. Chapter I: Love at first sight

**Disclaimer : I do not own Assassin's Creed.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter** **I**

 **Love at first sight**

There were some things, Edward had noticed, that did not change over the centuries. One thing were the haystacks, which were always located at the most convenient yet totally impossible places. Another one was that the guards would always fall for the stupidest of tricks. An also common occurrence was people making funny comments about his sanity. And finally, there would always, _always_ be problems with drunkards.

It was a fairly ordinary day for Edward up until that point. He was heading towards a tavern where he was a regular customer, "The Auld Shillelagh", a small place just outside Bristol. Edward quite liked it there. He had his drinking buddies and a lot of alcohol along with quite a few women; one who did not know Edward would say that he, at the age of seventeen, was too young to hang out in such a place. But hey! It was a nice and pretty effective way to forget his problems and release some tension. Perhaps he was like that because of Ezio; that guy was always spending his money on women and wine when he was in the same age. But at the same time Ezio had lost half his family in that age, and since Edward could recall the memories of his ancestors easier when they were around the same age, that affected him too.

However, Ezio's traumatic experiences were only part of the problem. Edward was now seventeen and that was old enough for him to worry that there was fat chance he never gets out of Bristol. His father, Bernard, was a sheep shepherd, his grandfather was a sheep shepherd, his grandfather's father was a sheep shepherd, and now it seemed like Edward would be a sheep shepherd as well. And he did not like that at all. He had more important things to do, darn it! Or more like, he _felt_ like he had more important things to do.

A good enough reason to head to his favourite tavern when his parents were out.

He had just gotten in the tavern when he noticed that something was wrong. You see, Edward was used to keeping track of every girl in town, and that was one that he had never seen before. More importantly, this tavern was most definitely _not_ the kind of place a girl like her would hang out at. She had the modest appearance of a housemaid in some rich household, and such servants were only seen in town when they were to purchase supplies and other goods. Yet it was very much obvious that groceries were that last thing that the maid had in mind right now. She was yelling – very loud and in complete contrast to her modest appearance – and she was surrounded by three other guys; all older that she was.

Three guys who Edward knew all too well; Tom and Seth Cobleigh, and Julien somebody – he never bothered learning his surname. All three of them assholes; one pointed look and it was enough for them to take it personally, like you were looking at them down your nose or something. Well, they certainly did look Edward down _their_ noses, and that had resulted in quite a few fist fights. And there was no hiding their lecherous looks as they ate the drunk girl with their eyes.

It did not take a genius to put two and two together; those three had "invited" the lass for a drink, she accepted the offer, and now they were waiting – impatiently – until she was drunk enough for them to take advantage of her. Edward's morals were loose in more than a few places, but this was _not_ one of them.

True to Edward's suspicions, the three lads were ready to "escort" the young lady out. "You've had too much to drink, Lovely. Let's get you Home, shall We?".

"To Bed.", added Seth, obviously thinking that nobody would hear him even though the whole tavern did – no better than a toddler, honestly. "Let's be getting you to Bed.".

Oh, they were asking for it. Edward signaled to the barman and another patron; both refused. Cowards. Not that Edward could not take those three assholes on his own with ease, but he really wanted to see who would be willing to put some boundaries to the liberties of the customers in the tavern. If the tavern's very own owner was not willing to put his foot down… Oh well.

Edward stepped outside the dark tavern and into the sunlight; he blinked by the sudden change. As expected, the asshole trio and the girl had not gotten too far. In fact, they were just outside the road. Perfect. Now _everyone_ who paid attention would see what followed.

"Well, Tom Cobleigh.", started Edward, knowing it did not take much to rill them up. "The Things you see on a fine Afternoon. Why, just you and your Cronies are getting drunk, and getting a poor defenseless Woman even drunker.".

The girl finally seemed to realize that something was wrong with her company, as she released her arm from Tom's grip. However Tom did not seem to really care at the moment as he had already raised an accusing finger towards Edward. "Now, just You stay out of This, Edward Kenway, You young good-for-nothing. You're as drunk as I am and yer Morals just as loose. I don't need to be given a talking-to by the Likes of You.". By the time Tom had finished his little speech Seth and Julien had already turned towards Edward as well and the girl seemed to had entered some sort of sleep-walking state.

"Well, loose Morals I might have, Tom Cobleigh, but I don't need to pour Ale down a Girl's Throat before taking her to Bed, and I certainly don't need two Friends to help me with the Task.". Edward said that with a smile; he really was more drunk than he thought. He was always trying not to drink too much alcohol as he knew it was unwise, but it was so easy to lose track.

Apparently that little insult did its work too well. Tom had turned an interesting shade of red. "Why, you cheeky little Bastard, you. I'm going to put her on my Cart is what I'm going to do, and take her Home.".

"I have no Doubt that you intend to put her on your Cart and take her Home.", replied Edward smoothly. "It's what you plan to do between putting her in the Cart and reaching Home that concerns me.".

"That concerns you, does it? A broken Nose and a Couple of broken Ribs will be concerning you unless you mind your own bloody Business.".

Absentmindedly, Edward noticed a lone figure, half-hidden by the trees, heading towards their direction, but he paid no mind to it. All his good humor from earlier disappeared, and his voice showed a steely edge that would make any man less drunk to think twice before challenging him. "Now you just leave that Girl alone, Tom Cobleigh, or I won't be responsible for my Actions.".

The three men did as he said, and the girl seemed almost relieved that they finally let her go. Guess she was not sleep walking after all.

Edward in the mean time calculated the odds. Three against one. He had to admit that while Altair and Ezio had fought dozens of times with much worse odds than that, Edward himself had never really gotten in such a fight. Nobody wanted anything to do with the most abnormal lad in town. Also, all of them were more or less just as drunk – which was quite a lot – and Edward was not at the very prime of his strength right now. From the other hand, Tom was old enough to be Edward's father – heck, he _was_ the same age with Edward's father! – Seth was Tom's son – and the fact that he was helping his father get a young girl to his bed said quite a lot about what kind of people they were. Seth was most likely to back off when fists started flying. However Julien might prove trouble; he certainly looked like he could handle himself.

And yet… Edward remembered the lone rider who was still approaching. Worst case scenario, if he could not handle those three bastards alone, he could hold them off until said rider showed up. More than likely he would decide to help. Plus, the trio would not be so brave in front of an audience.

"So,", Edward continued, looking for a fight. "even if you end up leaving me a bloody Heap by the Side of this here Road, and carry that young Lassie off anyway, I'm going to have to do all I can to make it as difficult for you as possible. And perhaps see to it that you go on your Way with a black Eye and maybe a pair of throbbing Bollocks for your Troubles.".

Tom had obviously lost his patience by then. His eyes had become slits when he spoke next. "Well, are you going to stand there talking about it all Day, Edward Kenway, or are you going to attend to your Task? Because Time waits for no Man…", he grinned after that "I've got People to see, Things to do.".

"Aye, that's right, and the longer you leave it the more Chance that poor Lassie has of sobering up, eh?".

"I don't mind telling you, I'm getting tired of all this Talk, Kenway.". Tom turned to Julien. "How about we teach this little Bastard a Lesson? Oh, and one more Thing before we start, Master Kenway,", he added, turning back to Edward "you ain't fit to shine your Mother's Shoes, you understand?".

Tom had hit the Jackpot. That one was a heavy blow to Edward. Others would dismiss it as unimportant, but Edward could not. Not when his own family life was as shitty as it was. Saying that his father did not treat his mother well would be a lie, but every family had its problems, and his father's closed off attitude to the point of almost _abandoning_ them once was still a very deep wound. And to think that it was that bloody mongrel who had driven that rusty knife in that wound and twisted it just to see how much it would hurt… That bastard was a _dead meat_.

Julien, being the most confident, took a fighting stance and swung his right fist towards Edward. Obviously he was either not as good as Edward thought, or he had underestimated the blond. Edward had noticed right away that his opponent was right handed. Edward pared the incoming fist with his left hand and drove his right one right into the man's throat, causing him to choke out air, saliva, alcohol, and not just a little bit of blood. His throat instantly had turned into a red angry bruise which bled from here and there. A very violent strike, that had it had a little bit more force behind it, it would have killed the man. But Julien was still alive, and Edward could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips as he caught the unconscious man from the neck and threw him on a very surprised Tom, who was intending to sneak at Edward from the side. Obviously he did not expect Edward to notice him.

However Edward had fallen into the same trap, for as he did that, Seth had grabbed an empty bottle from somewhere and slammed it into Edward's head. Edward felt his head throb and his vision blurring, and he turned around to drive his left elbow in Seth's nose as retaliation. However, Seth was an idiot. He could have already been one step away from his previous spot and Edward would have missed, but instead he had stayed in his place to gloat and now he paid the price with a bloody nose. Edward let out a satisfied grunt at the strike.

And then someone jumped on him. Tom had managed to get Julien's unconscious form off himself and now had Edward pinned on the ground, his head throbbing at the sudden force.

This was bad. _Very_ bad. Tom had toppled him. And he fell. The worst thing that could happen to you when you are outnumbered is fall. Once you fell it was over.

Or it _would_ be over. With a sudden move, Edward rolled like a barrel and now it was _him_ who was on top and Tom who was at the bottom. The blond performed a back-roll and freed himself from his adversary's clutch. Victory was his!

Except that Julien had regained his conscious.

With an angry fist, the struggling man punched Edward straight on his head, making his vision go blind for more than a few seconds. By the time his vision returned, both Tom and Seth Cobleigh had gotten up.

What followed was brutal. The three men brought Edward down and started kicking him, showing no mercy. Somewhere between the pain, Edward was astonished that some common street thugs could be so ruthless. This was not normal. If the kicking continued, sooner or later a rib would break.

And in that exact moment, the lone rider arrived. Edward managed to take a look at her. Oh. _Her. Shite._ The rider was a woman, and obviously a lady of class. She was riding astride the horse, like a man, and not sidesaddle like it was the usual for women. That only showed confidence. And even through the kicks of the three that were now raining, he managed to form one thought. _"She is beautiful…"._

Too bad that beauty cannot save his life.

"Hey.", Edward heard her calling out. "You three Men. Stop what you're doing right now.".

The three of them reluctantly backed off, and he tried to get back on his feet, unable to stop his coughing. Now that the beating had stopped, Edward managed to take a batter look at her. She was young – perhaps a little older than him? – and while she was not high society, she was definitely raised in a rich household. No woman of her status was making trips with her horse alone. And Jeysus, she was twice as beautiful as he had first thought.

"We were just teaching this young Man here some Manners.", Tom excused himself, obviously out of breath. How exhausting it must be to kick a fallen man to death! Though Julien was still spitting blood… That filled Edward with a vicious satisfaction.

The young lady was not having any of that. "Well, it doesn't take three of you to do that, does it?", she retorted, sending a glare to the three men who now looked like little kids scolded by their parents. She got off the horse. "More to the Point, what are you doing with this young Lady here?". Wait, that drunk girl was _still_ here? What was she doing, that idiot, and had not run away yet!?

"Oh, Ma'am, this is a young Friend of ours who had too much to drink.".

The woman's posture darkened and her gaze turned into a death glare. Something the lad had said was the wrong thing to say. "She is most certainly not your young Friend, she is a Maidservant, and if I don't get her back Home before my Mother discovers she is absconded then she will be an _unemployed_ Maidservant.". Ooh, _now_ they were _doomed_. "I know you Men, and I think I know exactly what has been going on here. Now, you will leave this young Man alone and be on your Way before I am of a Mind to take this further.".

The threat was obviously very effective, for before he knew it, these guys were bowing, apologizing and fleeing. With them gone, the woman kneeled to the ground in front Edward. "My Name is Caroline Scott, my Family lives in Hawkins Lane in Bristol, let me take you back there and tend to your Wounds.".

A very generous offer that surprised Edward. Not many people of class would aid a peasant like him. "I cannot, my Lady", replied Edward with a grin, his mood greatly uplifted by the rescue and the politeness of the rescuer. "I have Work to do.", he said, managing to sit up. He had to act at least a bit dignified in front of a lady. No woman would be happy with a man who was acting like a dirty asshole.

She – Caroline – stood up. "I see. And did I assess the Situation correctly?".

Edward started to brush the dirt of his clothes. "You did, my Lady.".

"Then I owe you my Thanks and so will Rose when she sobers up. She is a willful Girl, not always the easiest of Staff, but nevertheless, I don't want to see her suffer for her Impetuousness.".

" _God."_ , decided Edward in his head. _"I was saved by an Angel."_. He finally got up, and he helped Caroline mount the still piss-drunk Rose, who was oblivious to the rest of the world. As Caroline would mount a sudden thought occurred to Edward and he blurted it before he could stop himself. "Can I see you again, my Lady? When I look a little more presentable, perhaps?".

She gave him a regretful look. "My Father would never approve.". And with that, she was off.

Edward Kenway at that moment knew that this would not be their last meeting.

* * *

All he could think that night was her. Not his condemned future or the struggles of the world. Not even the somewhat surprise on his father's face when he saw him coming home all beaten up – and that was worse than disappointment. No; all he could think of was _her._

How beautiful she was in the summer sun, with her red hair glistening in the light, and her peach colored skin giving off a healthy glow. How confident she had been, riding on her own the same way men do and stop that fight without doing as much as raise her voice. How kind she had been to him…

A horribly cliché line, but he had never met anyone like her. An angel had come to save him when he was at a pinch. Three drunkards had managed to corner him, honestly… Then again, he was quite drunk himself. _"I seriously need to cut down the Ale. Easier said than done."._

She was amazing. Everything about her was remarkable; he could tell from the first already meeting. She was not just a pretty face – though her beauty was plentiful. She was also confident and gentle, she had stood up in a situation when any other women of her status would have avoided like the plague, and she had shown kindness not only to her maidservant, but to him as well. Him, Edward Kenway, who had nothing but his parents, a cottage which was owned by his parents, and a few sheep. And a whole bunch of memories that were not his, but that would _never_ count.

One thing he knew: he would see her again. He felt like had to. But where could he find her? Wait; she had given him her address. Hawkins Lane in Bristol, right? All he had to do was go there and search for the gold target. It would not be hard; his Eagle Vision was much better than Altair or Ezio's – something Edward took pride in. He could climb through her window- no. She would not like that. A complete stranger climbing through her window in the middle of the night? He had not even given her his name!

Then during the day, perhaps? _"My Father would never approve."_. Right. Her father. If Edward did not want to get Caroline in trouble, he had to find her in a time when her parents would not be around. But that also meant he would have to find out who her parents _were_. And that could take a while.

Patience and information gathering. He could do that.

* * *

The next two or possibly three weeks were spent on precisely that task. Edward had his ears open for any word on the surname Scott, as he had not dared to venture around their house yet. However, all that time Edward heard nothing, and he did not want to start questioning people; a rumor mile was the last thing he needed. Also, summer was close to an end and it would not be long before his parents had finished their long-hours business outside Bristol. A visit to the Scott house seemed to be the only option left.

The next morning, instead of going to "The Auld Shillelagh", Edward went to Hawkins Lane. He had to go through this carefully. He put on mundane clothes – nothing attention catching – but he made sure that his shoes were suitable for climbing. He also took his hat with him – a passable substitute for the Assassin hood and much less suspicious during summer. And last but not least, his Hidden Blade.

It was not a true Assassin Hidden Blade. Edward had merely used a very thin knife and fixed some strings and wires inside a leather bracer he had made himself with the money he had saved. It was nowhere close to the quality of an original Hidden Blade, but it could be easily hidden under his sleeve and it answered just fine. He was certain that he would not need it, but better safe than sorry.

As soon as he was done with the preparations, he went to the road in front of "The Auld Shillelagh" where he had met Caroline for the first time. And after that, he closed his eyes and opened his senses.

Edward's Eagle Vision really was much better than Altair or Ezio's. Even with his eyes closed he could see through his eyelids. The sky had turned black like the dead of the night but starless, getting rid of all sunlight and thus any shadows that may prove a hindrance to noting the details. The noises became muted as if underwater, but they were as clear as a bell to his ears. All vegetation glowed yellow and green, the bushes around the road white – an indication for a hiding spot. Small animals that were unseen later where now visible at the edge of his hearing – most of the grey and see-through like ghosts, but there were a few that glowed red. The trees and bushes were no problem; he could see through them as he could see through walls – another advantage to his sixth sense.

But that was not enough; not yet. So he pushed further, deeper, where he could sense the spirit behind his Eagle Vision, the jackdaw. Edward at first had not understood why his spirit animal had to be this dark little creature. But it was a sly bird that he loved, good at sneaking, stealing and searching, even though it looked unimportant at first glance – just like Edward himself. He could smell it now – the path that Caroline had followed, glowing golden. Edward opened his eyelids slowly and carefully, so he would not lose the trail. And after making sure that nobody was following him, he followed the path.

It was not long before he found himself in front of the house in Hawkins Lane – even without his Eagle Vision, it was a hard place to miss. And that was because it was not a house, it was a mansion. A beautiful, two floors white mansion, not too large but it showed wealth, with the chambers of the apparently few servants and the stables at the side in separate buildings. By all accounts, it was the kind of house a wealthy merchant would have.

Edward climbed up a nearby tree to hide himself and get a good view of the building. Climbing and free-running on threes was a skill Edward had taught himself. He had found out the hard way when he was a boy that doing so was completely different to climbing and free running buildings. All things made by man are more or less the same when it comes down to stability and the like. Every single tree branch is different.

Once on the tree, Edward dropped Eagle Vision, and rubbed his temples, hoping to get rid of his headache. He had never used his sense for such lengthy amounts of time before. Even the jackdaw in his head seemed to be exhausted, not that Edward could blame the poor bird. He just lied on the branch taking a break, and waiting until both he and the bird felt a little better.

Once he got the signal that _"Yes, you can use me again"_ , Edward gave another go in Eagle Vision to scan the building, unhindered by the walls. Inside the building he could see the various chests and closets glowing white, but he paid them no mind. _That door there looks a little strange…_ He dismissed the thought. Caroline was on the second floor, alone in her room, glowing gold as she was his target. There were a few more inside the house. The two servants were colored in the grey see-through of the people whose presence always was dismissed. The same could be said for the middle aged woman that was apparently Caroline's mother. She would not have any objections with her daughter accepting a proper thank you from Edward.

Edward was about to climb down the tree and meet Caroline when something in the edge of his Vision stopped him. A man had entered the house – and he was glowing a bright red. Edward stopped in the middle of the motion and examined the man carefully. He was dressed as wealthily as Caroline did, and had a proud bearing that showed that the man considered himself to be of a higher social class than he actually was. _"He must be Caroline's Father."_ , thought Edward. And then he picked something else on the man – an object that was glowing white somewhere on his person. Edward stared bewildered for a second; why would his Vision render a small object as important?

Edward shook his head and focused on the matter at hand: meeting Caroline. Her parents and a couple of servants seemed to be getting ready to go outside – no doubt in order to attend business. However Caroline was obviously not going anywhere. And neither was the maidservant he had tried to rescue the other day – Rose, was it? Perfect. All he had to do was wait until Caroline's parents were out of the house, and then he could properly thank the two women.

And perhaps, investigate the mysterious object that Mr. Scott was carrying on his person.

As it turned out, he had to wait for a whole hour until Caroline's parents were out. Edward could only scowl – how long does it take for a couple of people to put something appropriate on and go out? Even in Ezio's family, which was high class nobility with six members, in _formal_ meetings it did not need more than half an hour before everybody was ready; and that included the time that Maria needed to convince Federico to move his lazy ass.

Anyway. Time to meet Caroline.

Edward switched his position from the well-hidden tree branch to a bush very close to the front door, and waited for Rose to get close to it. It would not be proper for him to climb through Caroline's window, and Edward was sure he would get both himself and her in trouble should he approach any of the other servants. His patience was rewarded when ten minutes later the glowing white form of Rose approached the door. Edward dismissed his Vision – he knew that the glowing gold eyes looked a little creepy – got off his hiding spot and knocked the door, loudly enough so Rose would hear but not too much so not to alert the rest of the servants.

Rose seemed definitely surprised when the blond lad she vaguely remembered through her drunken stupor suddenly showed up on their doorstep. "Oh. Good Afternoon, Mr…?".

"Just Edward.", he replied. He took a deeper breath. "I came to properly thank Caroline.".

For some reason, as soon as she heard that, Rose smirked. "Just a Second.". And with that, she was off.

Edward blinked. "Okay…".

Seconds later, Rose was down the stairs with Caroline on her tail. She was even more beautiful than Edward remembered her, with her hair slightly messy and wearing an in-house robe. Caroline seemed to almost take a stunned step back as soon as she saw him. "You!- Oh. Good Afternoon.".

Edward could not help his smile; her surprised expression looked cute – wait, what? "I came to properly thank you, Miss Caroline.".

Said woman scoffed slightly as soon as she heard that. "Please, you can just call me Caroline. And what is your name?".

"Edward James Kenway. You can call me Edward.", he replied.

"Oh.", she blinked. "This is unusually… fancy.". Edward knew why she said that. Both Edward and James were usually names that were given to kings and princes. But there was more in it than Caroline possibly knew. Edward knew by the knowledge on the Old English that he had acquired from Altair and Maria that his first name meant "rich guard", James "the one who follows", and Kenway meant "royal war".

"I know it's fancy.", he replied with a shrug.

An awkward second passed. "Both Rose and I thank you for Aid, Edward.", said Caroline. "I don't want to think what could've happened to Rose had she stayed with those Men.".

" _I_ thank you, Caroline", denied Edward. "Those Jerks could have killed me if they continued.".

"It was Nothing.", she replied embarrassed.

"I… should go.", said Edward, not understanding why he was so embarrassed by the woman's mere presence. Rose struggling to hide her giggles was decidedly _not_ helping. "I have Work to do, and I'm already late.".

"Goodbye, then.".

"Goodbye.".

And with that, Caroline retreated and Rose closed the door, but not before sparing him a wink. Seriously, what was _wrong_ with her!?

Edward shook his head and started walking away from the small mansion. It was true: he had to get home before his father- wait. Caroline's father. The mysterious white object.

The jackdaw in Edward's head was waving its wings up and down, jumping on the spot, trying to tell Edward that something was _off_ about the man. And Edward was not one to ignore his gut feeling. For some, reason, he was suddenly glad he had brought his Hidden Blade with him.

For a moment that seemed too long, Edward just sat under a tree close to Caroline's house having an inner debate. On the one hand he had a feeling that he should go after the man; this feeling of _offness_ was not something that could be shook off easily. On the other hand he – and who knows who else – could get in a lot of trouble if he was caught tailing a man. _"But you will not get caught."_ , said his jackdaw.

The bird was right. Edward _could not_ get caught.

If he could follow a three weeks old trail, he could definitely follow one that was not even half an hour long. For once again Edward dug deeper into his sixth sense and tracked the golden trail. But this time around it was not Caroline who was his target. It was Mr. Scott.

Edward hid on the trees and bushes, and followed the trail. The small path that Mr. Scott's carriage followed seemed to be united with the main road that was used by riders and carriages. Nothing unusual up until now. And more importantly, there was no-one in Sight.

Edward flew through the trees. The freedom of free running was something he cherished greatly. Run with small and fast steps on the tree brunch. Jump – catch yourself on the branch of the other tree. Play the monkey for one or two branches. Land on a third. Jump to the next one. Skip the tree trunk onto the next branch. Continue running.

It was amazing. The feeling of the wind on his heating face, the slight ache of the muscles, the lightness of his body as he made his way on the trees… If anyone was to see him right now, they would only catch something like a large shadow. Flying along with the wind.

After a while the trees became fewer and more sparse. Edward was forced to the ground. With a leap and a practiced roll that felt like second nature, Edward landed on the ground without as much as a scratch and brushed a little dirt off his clothing. He was just outside a small and busy merchant point out of Bristol – close enough to grand an easy access to the harbor, but far enough to be somewhat secluded. Edward felt a slight dread as soon as he saw the place; he knew it like the back of his hand, but only because his father used to take him here all the time. It was where his family traded their wools and dairy products. In other words, there was a very good chance his parents were here. Well, better be safe than sorry.

Edward found a high spot on a building and scanned the area with his Eagle Vision. No blue spots – good. That meant that his parents were not here. He would be in a lot of trouble once he got home, but this was not important. As for his target… there.

He once again dismissed his Eagle Vision and with a Leap of Faith Edward landed in a haystack, thankfully not attracting much attention. He got out of it, brushed any remaining hay off his clothes, and with satisfaction he noted that he could still see the yellow form of Mr. Scott, even through the countless walls. And that was _without_ his Eagle Vision.

Edward swiftly moved to the place where he had spotted the man, and saw that he had a conversation with some other rich bloke. He blended with a small crowd that was busy talking about the increasing prices of wools and fabric, and eavesdropped the conversation.

The other guy looked quite young – around his twenties – and that struck Edward as odd, especially considering the fact that it was the young one that was doing the scolding. "Listen here, Mr. Scott. It does not matter that you are older and wealthier than I; you have fallen from the Grandmaster's good Graces. So right now, it's _you_ who has to answer to me, not the other Way around.". The Grandmaster!? They could not possibly mean…

"The Grandmaster is way too hopeful with this Plan. What he needs in Order to achieve success in the West Indies is Anarchy, and with the War that now begins between our Crown and the Spanish, all Ships and Soldiers, as well as their comings and goings are carefully traced and recorded. And to make Matters worse, there are no People among the higher Ranks that he can trust!". A war!? Did they talk about the whole "crown" thing with the French and the Spaniards, and the Portuguese and who knows which other countries?

"The Grandmaster said that all we be in due Time. What we need to do right now is get enough Privateers to work for the King.". Privateers?

"Do you truly believe that Something like that will work? Only a Fool could not see the Advantage of a competent Navy over a rowdy and inexperienced Row of… "legal" Pirates!".

"Yes, but the King doesn't have enough Men for that. Which is why he has no other Choice but to turn to the Privateers. And besides, there are some Gentlemen in the King's Council who consider this Option, and it is likely that he will approve.".

"But are they _our_ Gentlemen?".

"Only the Carrols, but that's not important. What we need _you_ to do right now is keep pressing Bristol. We will need as many of those "legal Pirates" around as we can get. And if you succeed, then slowly but surely, you will start to gain back the Grandmaster's good Graces.".

"I understand. But I still hope he would tell something more about his Plans to the Rest of us…". Apparently the young one was as clueless as Mr. Scott, for he had no answer to that pondering.

Once more – and hopefully for the last time today – Edward called upon his jackdaw. As he had half-expected, the other lad was glowing a bright red just like Mr. Scott had earlier that day, and had on his person a white glowing object as well. He then turned his gaze to Mr. Scott. Surely enough, the white object was still, there, and now that he was closer, he could see that it was a ring. Edward sharpened his eyesight – he could sense that the ring for some sort of reason was important. He took a more careful look to the piece of jewel that hanged from the man's left ring-finger. It was not his wedding ring, that was for sure.

Edward had to take a second look once he saw that ring. It was silver, with a red ruby cross on it. The Cross of the Templar Order.

* * *

 **Author note: This is the first chapter of the re-written version of "The Seeker"! The ones who have read the original version, you must have noticed that this is basicaly the original story's chapters two and three combined, with some slight edits. I have included the Bristol harbor as I did not know that there was one when I first wrote this fanfic. Also, some future events will be more cannon compliant, but be ready for some crazy twists! If you want spoilers, check out the original version. But you should know, things will change more as the story progresses.**

 **Another thing, all future fights will be much more graphic than this one. I have not much experience in writing fight scenes, but descriptions is what I do best.**

 **The question still stands: is anyone interested in a fanfic featuring Adam and all the First Civilization? Do you know such fics? Let me know!**

 **Read and Review! I LOVE reviews!**


	3. Chapter II: Research

**Disclaimer : I do not own Assassin's Creed.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter** **II**

 **Research**

In the end, the punishment – grounding inside the house for the next week – was the last thing that concerned Edward. No, the _real_ problem was that Mr. Scott was a Templar, and that the Templars had a plan.

A plan which apparently involved a war that had not even started yet. The British and the Spanish Empires… Truth to be told, news on politics rarely reached Bristol. It was a moderately quiet place, away from the hustle and bustle of the larger cities, like London. So Edward could not imagine the reason why the two Empires would start a war. The King, unlike most of the men and women who previously had the throne, actually happened to have a head on his shoulders, and Edward was sure that the man could see that starting a war with the Spanish would lead to nothing. However, the Templars _had_ influence on the Crown. The Carrols… for how long were they in the King's council? Mr. Scott and that other man obviously did not think much of their influence, but then again, they were arrogant. Edward had to find out more about the Carrols. **[1]**

From the other hand, did the Templars have any influence on the Spanish…? It was far from an unlikely scenario. If there was any heavy Templar influence on the Spanish Crown, considering all the strength that the Spanish Empire had started to gather, it would not take much to convince their King to start a war and establish his influence. Besides, everybody knew that the Spanish Empire was lead by incapable rulers corrupt to the bone. It was only a matter of time before the Empire fell, in spite of all that gold.

Should something like that happen, the Spanish were doomed. But why would the Templars want the Spanish Empire to fall? Wait. What did they have to gain from the British? Wait. _"Yes, but the King doesn't have enough Men for that. Which is why he has no other Choice but to turn to the Privateers."._ The privateers: legal pirates to cover up the lack of manpower. They would steal all the Spanish gold. Mr. Scott had said that in order to achieve the Templar plans they needed anarchy. In other words, the needed the King blind and deaf to the events during the war.

There were so many information missing… Where would the war take place and when? What were the ulterior motives behind their plan? Who was the Grandmaster? Who was the other bloke that was talking to Mr. Scott? And the most pressing issue – what did they mean, by saying "keep pressuring Bristol?".

No matter how you see it, all this meant trouble. And Edward could not afford to leave this mystery unresolved. His consciousness would not allow it.

* * *

Caroline could not sleep that night. All she could do was thinking about _him_. Edward. She certainly had not expected from the blond man to actually pay her a visit. Sure, she had told him where her house was, but to think he would actually come to see her…

This was not the first time Caroline would spend hours thinking about Edward. She just did not want to admit it. Something about him made her pause. Was it the heroics he had pulled I order to rescue Rose from those men? Was it his manner when he spoke to her? Or was it… something else? Edward had something different on him, something that made him stand out in her eyes. It was _his_ eyes.

Yes, that must be it. His blue eyes were even brighter than the sky, it seemed almost unnatural. Like he was older than he let on, and he was able to see things that other people were not able to. Something old, but not rotten, hidden by youthful looks.

Caroline shook her head. What she was thinking sounded like total nonsense. This was the reason why Rose had noticed her thoughts in the first place.

What she would not give to have five minutes with Edward…

* * *

What Caroline did not know was that Edward _was_ , as a matter of fact, inside her house. Inside her father's study, to be more precise.

Edward knew that under no circumstances should he get caught. From Emmet Scott's point of view – he had finally learned the man's first name – Edward would be an unknown Assassin searching through his documents. And the fact that Caroline knew him would make matters worse in such a scenario.

There were so many ways this could go wrong. If he ran into someone of the staff or Caroline, or even worse, the man himself… Even if Emmet Scott noticed that someone was in his study in the first place…

Edward did not want to think about it. Now he had to focus on the task in hand: search information on the Templar plot. Edward was going through letters and maps, hoping to find any clues about where the war would take place and when, the plans for Bristol, the names of other Templars – and especially the young man that Emmet Scott was talking to that morning – and perhaps even the name of the Grandmaster.

As he was methodically going through the documents, Edward discovered that Emmet Scott was quite obsessive with erasing all evidence about his not so legal activities. He could not find a word about the Templars anywhere. _"But that's quite reckless of him."_ , thought Edward. _"The Catch is what you_ haven't _erased."_. The documents that Emmet Scott had not erased were focused on business transactions, and through those, the Templar plot for Bristol – and, as it seemed, the rest of England as well – was more than obvious.

The lower ranking Templars, which were mostly merchants, would slowly take control of the economic activity in their respective regions and make the poor people even poorer. The perfect set-up to force the whole country's lads into privateering, in order to feed themselves.

As it turned out, Emmet Scott was either taking all orders from above orally, or burned all documents. If Edward wanted to keep an eye on the transactions between the Templars, he would have to find the messenger. And right now his best bet was the lad Emmet Scott was talking to that morning.

Edward sighed at the thought. All that crap would make the punishment of his parents even heavier and his own work even harder.

Had he activated his Eagle Vision, he would have noticed the book that was glowing white.

* * *

" _Edward is acting strangely today."_ , thought Bernard. Or more like: _"He had been acting strangely – well, stranger than usual – for four Weeks now."._ Something was bugging Edward, and that "something" was bigger than anything had concerned him in the past. So Bernard had given the lad the task of keeping an eye on the cart where the family was holding their trade, hopefully giving Edward some time to think.

Edward was not looking at the cart at all. He had his hat downcast, to hide his eyes that had turned golden, and he was scanning the crowds for a spot of gold – the man who was talking to Emmet Scott the previous day.

Edward knew that this task would be a tricky one. He did not even know if the man was here in the first place! And even if he found him, how could he know that tailing him would directly lead to evidence? Most probably it would not. But Edward would have yet another name and location to add to his newly founded list. The more information he had the better.

Right now his sixth sense was not detecting much. The blue glow of his parents and the single horse of their cart, and all other people were the typical see-through grey, plus a few white spots that indicated hiding places. Edward had started growing tired of this. He had been searching for his target for two hours now. He was about to quit it.

And he saw two new blue spots. He turned his neck towards that direction, so quickly that he felt his neck crack. And he even had to double-check to make sure of what he saw. Caroline and the maidservant, Rose. That meant… Yes, the red spot of Emmet Scott was merely two meters away from the girls.

Edward considered his options. If Emmet Scott was here there was a good chance to find the other man as well. So should he focus on Emmet Scott? Or finding the other man was a priority? And what about Caroline? Should he go and see her?

Edward had gone through Emmet Scott's files one week ago. However he did not know if there was any change since then – he was not able to go out and gather information. He decided to do just that.

He slowly walked away from the cart and started blending with nearby crowds, listening to their conversations. Most were about private stuff – a wedding or a birth or, more often that he would like, a death of some friend or family member. Work and gossip about the boys and girls in each house – nothing different than what he would hear at "The Auld Shillelagh". He moved further. Any clues of changes in the demands of the merchants, but the complaints were the usual. Nothing had changed. Not surprising.

Finding the young Templar it was.

But how could he find information without tailing the man to his house? He could live anywhere!

Edward face-palmed as soon as the thought occurred to him. Of course. Caroline. He could ask her. She ought to know something about her father's activities. Problem was, said father was but six feet away from her. No matter. He could approach her.

Edward blended with the crowds easily as he made his way to the place where Caroline was, Emmet, as expected, had his back turned to his daughter and was busy talking to another merchant. Edward did not bother eavesdropping that conversation – he knew who the other man was and he was not involved in anything suspicious. Instead he hid behind the building, and once Caroline was close enough, he let a whistle.

It worked like a spell, as always. Caroline and Rose exchanged a look and carefully approached the spot behind the building where Edward was. He, confident that he would remain undetected, moved a step from the corner. Right into Caroline's face.

"ED-Edward! What are you doing here?". The man in question let an inner sigh of relief. That was close. A bit louder and everyone would have noticed them.

"My Parents are trading here and they dragged me along. Needed an extra Hand in carrying all the Staff. How come _you_ are here today?".

Caroline let a sigh herself, though that one was a long-suffering sigh. "My Father sometimes is taking me with him in his Work in Hopes of finding Someone to engage me to.". Edward felt his eyebrows raise at that. It was not the answer he expected. "I am already nineteen. Normally a Woman from my Class should already be married.".

"And you don't have any Say in this?", he asked incredulously.

"None at all. My Life has already been planned out for me.".

She did not seem to want to share any more details on the subject, but to Edward this was just the lead he needed. He hated himself for doing this to her, but… "What is the Problem? Any of those Lads rubbing you the wrong Way?".

"Why, are you going to pick a Fight with them?", she asked with a small smirk.

Edward let out a small, surprised chuckle. "Nope.", he replied with a grin. How was it that Caroline could make him feel so relaxed?

"I haven't met most of my potential Husbands.", she said. "But yes, Some of those that I've met _are_ rubbing me the wrong Way.".

"Why, are they too old or Something?".

"No, it's just…". She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Edward felt a sudden pang of sympathy for her. "I didn't even know those People. Not as in, I've heard of them but I've never met them. All of the sudden my Father would introduce me to this or another Man I haven't even heard of, like he doesn't want Anyone to know that he knows them or Something.".

"Anyone who particularly stands out?".

Caroline shot him a strange look. "Why are you asking?".

Edward examined his feet uncomfortably. He did not want to lie to Caroline, but he could not tell her the whole truth either. "I'm concerned that some rich Blokes in the surrounding Area may start causing Problems.", he said, and he could _feel_ Caroline's surprised look. He felt the need to explain. "I had overheard a strange Conversation between some rich Merchants a while ago and it doesn't bode well with me… Or Anyone, for that Matter. Believe me Caroline, they are planning something bad. _Really_ bad.".

Caroline was searching him, he knew. "Is my Father involved in this?".

Edward took a deep breath. "…Yes.".

Her face turned skeptical. "Actually that explains quite a Lot…", she muttered. That had Edward's immediate attention. "The Relationships between my Father and some other Gentlemen have become strained as of late… And None of those Gentlemen are People my Father has ever talked about, even though our Trading with them is our main Source of Income… At least, that's what I think. He does assign various Documents to me to manage, but he would never allow me to touch the Documents on specific People. And those People are the ones Father introduces me to…".

Edward could tell that Caroline had become really uncomfortable. "Sorry for bothering you like this. I guess this isn't my Business after all…".

"No!". Edward stared at her. "I mean…", was that a _blush_? "Thank you for hearing me out. It's nice having Someone else than Rose to talk to.".

Edward felt himself blush as well. "You're welcome. I- I should go.".

"I will help you, if you need Anything else…".

"Thank you, Caroline. Really.". And he meant it.

"Goodbye.".

"Goodbye.".

And Edward left.

In the end, he did not find the young Templar he was looking for. But now he knew something else. Emmet Scott had messed up big time in the Templar Order. And he was planning to betroth his daughter to one of them to make it up. There was no way Edward lets Caroline suffer in the hands of one of those bastards. Never.

* * *

 _Green. Green everywhere. The forest during the passing of the cold season to the warm. This was its colour. Rich. Endless. Except one spot. A building. Whiter than the snow. That was their target._

 _They had to be fast. They_ were _fast._

 _They moved in unity. They ran through the front door. No-one in sight._ They _did not need any guards._ They _controlled_ everything _._

 _They jumped together. His own breath had become shallow. His heart was beating faster. So did hers. But they did not run any slower. They could not run any slower._

 _Through the glass panel. It broke. Someone will notice it. They had to take it. Now._

 _They were here. Their brothers and sisters were trapped here. Working. Sweating. Building. They did not know what they were building. They did not know_ anything _._

 _They would change that. They_ had _to. But not now. Now they had to run. To get out of there. No time to lose._

" _We have it, Adam!"._

 _No. Too early for that. They were still running. They were still escaping. Too dangerous. "EVA!"._ **[2]** _  
_

Edward jumped off the bed, covered in sweat and his breathing was heavy. That dream… He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. This had always been the one memory he could not understand.

Other than Altair and Ezio, Edward had hard time accessing the memories of his other ancestors. They did not have Eagle Vision. They did not have enough Precursor Blood. He could recall the memories of their children up to a certain extent, but it was vague.

But this… _This_ was different. The man he was following in those memories was _strong_. He had more Precursor blood than _any_ of his ancestors. But the memories were simply so old…

Edward sunk into the feeling of defeat that always followed that particular memory. For years, ever since he was just old enough to understand that what he was seeing was not his imagination, he had been struggling, to finally tell apart fantasy from reality. He had to wake up in the mornings and remind himself who he was. He was afraid because the others would tell him that it was a curse, a sickness in his head. He was afraid because his parents were afraid. He was afraid because he would see ghosts and shadows and his eyes would play all sorts of strange tricks that he could not control.

The only way out of that identity crisis was to fight. So he shut his mouth and never spoke about what he was suffering from to absolutely no-one. Instead, he started throwing knives at a wall to vent his frustration. He focused on finding out what he could do and what he could not do.

He had started experimenting. With knives, with fists, with weapons and especially with his Sight. And finally he had found it. The point where he and his ancestors differed.

The spirit of _their_ Eagle Vision was – as the name indicated – an eagle. Edward's was a jackdaw. And this jackdaw – that dark, little and sly creature – helped him sort out everything. It helped him separate the two people from each other and from himself, and allowed Edward to become his own person.

However, that _third_ ancestor confused Edward. He could only see the memories of the man in his dreams, and he could not remember them later. All he could recall was flashes of green, blue, white and gold, a building (?) and emotions. Action and confusion. As if the man who was experiencing that himself could not understand why he was doing what he was doing. What _they_ were doing. There was a woman with him, wasn't there? The man was _always_ with her. She was the only one who was there.

His jackdaw was telling Edward that this was the beginning. The beginning of what, he did not know.

After he had calmed his breath, Edward sat up and tried to collect his thoughts. Why did he see that dream? And why now? The dream in general made no sense. A man and a woman, running into a building, apparently taking something from there, and then getting out as fast as they could.

The man was so worried about the woman he was following. It was obvious. And the man also wanted answers. Edward could relate to that feeling. He too wanted answers. And he too was worried about a woman: Caroline.

God, Caroline… Edward was entranced by her. Her beauty, will, kindness, confidence, honesty… She was one of the kind. There was nobody else out there like her – he was _sure_ of it. And what did she receive in exchange for all those noble qualities? A strict Templar of a father who wanted to marry her to another one, and only one person to talk to – and Rose could not do anything because she was a maidservant.

He wished he could do something to change that. He truly did. Normally Edward would not meddle in the personal affairs of the rich but in Caroline's case, he felt like he had to. Unless he somehow helped her, Caroline would be forced to marry a Templar, and for her that would be disastrous. Besides, if Emmet Scott sought to marry his daughter in order to avoid more problems within the Order, there was simply no way that future husband considered Caroline as anything more that a prize.

No man or woman deserved to be treated as an object.

Now that he thought about it, the young Templar Emmet Scott was talking to was awfully close to Caroline's age… _"Oh Shit."_.

Emmet Scott's documents _had_ given Edward a few names, but as Caroline had said, the man would not allow access to the documents of his Templar associates. In other words, now Edward had no other choice but to find the mystery lad.

Back to harbor it was.

* * *

Bernard did not know what exactly to make out of his son's new-found habit to disappear at the most impossible hours and moments. He had to admit though; the lad had a true gift for hiding in plain sights. Or something more than just a gift.

He would soon have to make Edward to tell him what exactly the issue was. It was not his usual tactic, and he himself hated meddling into other people's affairs, even if it was his son. However he felt like he had no other choice. And that was because Bernard had a feeling that this time around there was no running away from trouble.

He just hoped that Edward had realized that.

Until then…

After he made sure that Edward had left the house, he went to the stables where the family held the sheep. As expected, all of them were sleeping. He would have to make sure that none of them woke up. If one did then all of them did. He also noticed something else: strangely enough, the horse was _not_ missing. **[3]** The man shook his head. Trust his son to be paranoid.

Carefully avoiding stepping on any wool, Bernard made his way to the other side of the stables, where the water pot for the animals was. Carefully, he removed it, and cleared the soil. Underneath it, there was a wooden trap door with a box underneath.

Bernard removed the old key from his neck and reached to unlock it. He internally winced at the rusty sound, but he could not say he was surprised by that. It had been years since that box had last been opened.

Bernard, with outmost care, removed the thin package inside the box.

If Edward was about to get into trouble, he was going to need this.

* * *

For the first time ever Caroline decided to disobey her father.

Not even Rose could change her mind right now. Something had to be done about her father.

Edward's admission that he was spying on her father and his business associates was the last straw she needed. Having strict rules in the household was one thing; keeping secrets that would affect not only the family, but _the entire region_ was another one. **[4]**

Caroline of course knew what she was looking for: anything that her father would not let her see on her potential husbands. Anything that would help Edward on his research. She did not know what a sheep shepherd could do, but if there was someone who could change things, it was Edward. He _knew_ what he was doing; she had no doubt of that.

The biggest problem right now was the chance of Caroline being spotted by someone. Thankfully, the house was mostly empty at this hour of the night, but _anyone_ could be up. She had to be quick about this.

Instead of searching her father's study for documents, Caroline checked the study itself.

If one did not know the house inside-out, they would never notice it. But Caroline did know the house and to her the "small detail" was obvious – the rooms and the space did not add up. The only possible explanation was that there was a secret room somewhere. And the only way to get in it was though the study.

" _Had I been my Father and were trying to hide Something, where would I hide it?"_. A special book in the bookcase. Something that looked expensive enough so none would touch it, but it would not stand out in the bookcase.

Caroline headed towards the general direction where she suspected that the secret room was. The selves of the bookcase here did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary. However, looks could be deceiving. That was an advice she had heard from her mother on numerous occasions. She started browsing through the books that were about her eye-level, knowing that her father would not bother moving chairs and furniture in order to open a switch.

Her eye caught something. One of the books did not fit in the library. Sure, it was a history book just like everything else in here. But this one did not have a title.

Caroline did not want to take any chances, so she examined the book more closely. It was leather-bound and its back had an engraved cross in it. Something about that cross was very familiar, but she could not quite place it. Then it struck her; it was the same exactly cross her father's ring had. If that was not the book that opened the door to the secret room, she did not know _what_ it could be.

Making a guess, she removed the book from the self. Sure enough, there was a key underneath it – silver with a red cross, just like her father's ring. _"But I still haven't found the secret Door."_. Caroline debated on what she should do next. Should she continue searching? No- not while her father is in the house. Should she take the key with her? She abandoned that idea as well. Who said that her father would not go looking for it? Besides, it would be relatively easy to find in her room. It was such an odd-looking thing with that red cross on it…

Wait. She had seen that cross before. And it was _not_ on her father's ring. What did that cross mean in the first place? An idea forming in her head, Caroline placed the key back where it was, making sure it was the exact spot. Then she placed the book with the same care back in place.

Finding out what did the cross mean sounded like a very good place to start her research.

* * *

Edward was very glad that he had not stolen the horse. That would give him away for sure. Technically, the horse would not _stolen_ , but if his father woke up while the horse was still missing, Edward would be in _big_ trouble. He did not want him to know about his shenanigans. Of course, the horse could return to the stables on its own – that was what all horses did – but still…

He was just glad he had gone on foot.

After a lot of running, Edward was finally here. This was the second time he had sneaked from his house to follow a Templar, but this time it was different. Edward knew where to find Emmet Scott. That _other_ man, he did not.

Hence the reason why he was at the harbor in the middle of the night. This place was full with all kinds of folks in this hour – and those folks were _not_ of the honorable lot. He was really glad for not bringing the horse here.

Edward closed his eyes and opened his senses, calling upon his jackdaw. When he opened them, the world was not quite as dark. Edward preferred his Eagle Vision to his normal one during night-time; it allowed him to see all the details clearly. He could even _read_ in absolute dark. And sure enough, the golden trail he was looking for was right there.

Edward climbed on a chimney above the trees hoping to catch a better view of the trail. He let a whistle; even from here he could not see the end of it. And to reach the point up to which he _could_ see, it would take at least a few days.

Should he go? Or not? In the end he decided not to do it. He needed a bit more preparation before he could go to such a trip.

With a Leap of Faith, he dove into the haystack bellow. Time to get some sleep.

Edward never knew he was being watched.

* * *

"What the Hell is _Kenway_ doing here?".

"Beats me. Bet he came looking for a Fight.".

"Then we better give it to him. There aren't any pretty Ladies to get in the Way now.".

"You Idiots! He doesn't know we're here!".

"Then what do we do?".

"We keep an Eye on him?".

"You're sure?".

"Aye.".

By the time they were done with their conversation, Edward was already specs of dust in the wind. **[5]**

* * *

 **Author notes: Here is chapter 2! Once again, this is chapters 4 and 5 combined, but with far more edits. I hope that you people prefer longer chapters, though I cannot know for sure without _ANY_ feedback.**

 **[1] The Carrols; they will be important. Those assholes, while not mentioned in any of the games, they were hunting down Elise in the Unity novel like crazy, and they were the ones that ordered Reginald Birch to inflitrate into the Kenway household and give them the green light to kill Edward. I am not exactly sure _how_ I'll make them fit in the plot - since they were not there in the original version - but I have plans.**

 **[2] Yes, that is the famous scene from the second game - or was it Brotherhood? - in which Adam and Eva steal the Apple of Eden. I call her Eva because that is how it is pronounced in my country - anything else sounds wrong in my ears, in spite of me not being a religious person. Those two, especially Adam, will be important in further down parts of the plot; especially after the Sage comes into play.**

 **[3] Had to change that part from the original because 1) Edward lives close enough to the harbor and 2) he is paranoid. Originally this part included a rather lame attempt for horse theft, but because Edward did not bring any horse I edited that part out.**

 **[4] Caroline does not know the full extend of the Templar plot yet, abd she cannot imagine her father having enough power to affect areas other than Bristol. However, that alone is a good enogh reason to be pissed off.**

 **[5] I have a reason to explain their presence. Not that the particular scene is all too important, but anyone who digs a little into cannon facts knows what _those_ three do. I'm tweaking this story a bit, but still. I have not decided what exactly changes I will make.**

 **I hope all that answered any potential questions. If you are wondering about _anything_ else, or want to express any ideas or oppinions, please review! I always respond to reviews!**


	4. Chapter III: New Acquaintances

**Disclaimer : I do not own Assassin's Creed.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter** **III**

 **New Acquaintances**

It was by all means an ordinary morning. The whole family had woken up at the crack of dawn – albeit _very_ unwillingly, in Edward's case – had a small meal, watered the animals and then each one headed to their jobs. Edward and Lilinete had headed to the market in order to sell and purchase the necessary goods, while Bernard had stayed behind to clean up the stables and the sheep. However Bernard was on alert, as usual. Who knew whether visitors would arrive at his doorstep…

But if there was _one_ visitor that he did _not_ expect to find on his doorstep that morning, that was Caroline Scott.

"Good Morning, Mr. Kenway, I presume?", she greeted, her tone polite.

"Aye.", he replied, trying to mask his immense surprise, but not without a raised eyebrow. "What do we owe the visit to, Miss Scott?".

If Caroline was surprised that the man in front of her knew her name, she did not show it. Then again, it was obvious she had other things in mind. "I was looking for Edward, actually. I was told he lives here.".

"He's not here right now.".

"Oh.". She seemed very hesitant. "I'm sorry to bother you, Sir.", she apologized.

Well, he did not expect an honest apology as an answer. "Why are you looking for him?", he asked her.

"I need to ask him Something I hope he has the answer to.".

Bernard gave her a searching look. She looked really concerned, if not… scared? And doubtful? After a moment too long, he finally said: "Come in, Lass.". And he made way for her to come in, ignoring her hesitation. She took a deep breath and walked into the house.

* * *

Caroline did not expect to receive such a greeting when she knocked the door of the Kenway household.

The morning after she had gone looking for the secret room in her house, Caroline, after making sure that her parents were not in the house, she had dragged Rose – though she had definitely been more willing to follow after she had learned who they were visiting – and went to the tavern where she had first met Edward. After she had sent in Rose to find out where his house was, they headed towards the location and she made Rose wait in the stables.

She was hoping that the one who opens the door would be Edward. She did not think that it would be his father.

Mr. Kenway was odd. He was tall and somewhat muscular even though his trade did not require any muscle at all. His hair was brown in blond in colour but darker that Edward's and it had started graying, giving a strange result. His eyes were a strange shade of something between blue and green, that Caroline could not quite place. It was like the colour of a _lake_ ; its shade was different depending on the light and the angle. Under his shirt collar there was the vague outline of a tattoo. **[1]** He carried himself in a proud way, totally different from what she had seen by other people of his class, and he spoke with a mixed Welsh and British accent that did not sound bad.

Bernard Kenway sort of reminded her of the way her father held himself when he was trying to look richer than he was – but Mr. Kenway really gave off a noble air that did not need to be faked at all. Caroline felt like she was standing in front of a lord.

His reactions to her were equally baffling. He did not question how she knew Edward. It was like he already knew that. He was looking for something else; and that sent shivers up to Caroline's spine. That old, searching and knowing look in his eyes was vastly different from Edward's, but it had the same effect on Carolines emotions anyway. It was like she was being _studied_ ; there was no doubt in her mind that Mr. Kenway had seen right through her. Somehow, she was not all that surprised when Mr. Kenway asked her to come into the house.

After she had gotten over her initial impression of the man, alone with her emotions, Caroline had found herself quite interested in how a low-middle class house would look like. Her father was always talking about poorer people as if they were pieces of scum, and therefore, even though she herself and her mother had never quite shared those views, at least not to the extend her father did, Caroline had never been to a poorer family's house before. If anything, all the houses she had ever visited were _richer_ than her own.

To her surprise, Edward's house was quite spacious. It was not dyed on the outside _or_ the inside, which was unusual since more houses were painted either white if you were rich, or pink if they were poorer. However, the house did not look _cheap._ If anything, the walls seemed to give off a strange feeling – it felt as if she had been _allowed_ to enter the house. It was an unfamiliar feeling to Caroline but not unpleasant. It was welcoming, somehow. It was safe.

Another thing that Caroline noticed was that the decoration was somewhat strange. Clearly, all the objects inside the space – the living room and the kitchen were united – were there for practical reasons only. However Caroline could not help but notice how some of the items in here felt out of place; a strange chest in the corner, a couple of books (how in the world did they get there!?) in another, some very intricate Saxon patterns on said chest and books…

Mr. Kenway motioned her to sit. She obeyed without a word.

"So,", started Mr. Kenway, knocking her out of her stupor "what did you want to ask my Son about?".

Caroline was hesitant. Should she tell him or not? Was that man inside the whole business her own father was involved in? Did he know anything in the first place? Would Edward get into trouble for her asking?

She decided to take the risk. She took out a sheet on paper on which she had copied the red cross and showed it to Mr. Kenway. "I was wondering what this Cross symbolizes. I was hoping he knew.".

Mr. Kenway stared at the cross for a long time. His expression was unreadable. Caroline feared for a moment that she would not get an answer.

"I can't tell you what this is directly…", started the man, and Caroline felt disappointment down at her "but I can tell you where to find it.".

 _That_ caught her attention. "What do you mean?".

"Go look at a History Book.", he replied. "Twelfth to thirteenth Century. If you have any more Questions, you can ask Edward.".

Caroline could only stare dumbfounded. "A _History Book_?".

"Aye.". He said that with such a certainty that Caroline did not doubt him for a second.

"Thank you, Sir.", she finally said.

"You can call me Bernard.".

"I should go.". Caroline got up and headed to the door.

"Do you want me to tell Edward that you visited?", asked her Mr. Bernard.

Caroline thought about it for a second. "No.", she said.

When Caroline was next to the door Mr. Bernard called out to her. "Oh, and Miss Scott?".

"Yes?", she asked.

Mr. Bernard looked at her straight in the eye. "If you ever want to find Something Hidden, ask Edward. He can find _Anything_.".

* * *

"So, was he there?", asked Rose excited.

"No.", replied Caroline disappointed. Rose's face fell. "But his Father was.".

At that Rose blinked in surprise. "Oh. What did he say?".

Caroline looked troubled. "He told me to look at a History Book.".

Rose's voice was full of disbelief. "A History Book? Really? Does he think we'll find Answers there?".

"Obviously he does. Anyway, I hope he's right. And besides, I can't just start asking around for Stuff like that. Better I find out Something on my own.".

"You're right.", said Rose, admitting defeat.

* * *

At some other place, namely the town market, Edward was already making plans. Sort of. He had seriously started questioning whether following the young Templar was a good idea or not. He had not even started _considering_ the idea and suddenly all sorts of problems started popping up in his mind and the possibility of finding the man was becoming thinner and thinner.

Edward did not know where did the man come from, but he knew that it was quite far away. So far away in fact, that he was coming to Bristol by Ship. It would take _days_ to reach the Templar's final destination. Heck, he might not even be in the _country_ right now! There was a good chance of that scenario; especially if the lad was high enough in the ranks to have an insight to the Grandmaster's plot.

Edward was pretty sure that the Templar Grandmaster was someone with high authority in the Spanish Government. He _knew_ that they had people with high authority in the British Government. If that Templar was high enough in the ranks –

No. Edward stopped his train of thought. This was _not_ the time to be paranoid.

From the other hand, there was also a good chance Caroline becomes engaged to the man. If that was the case, then that Templar would still be in England, so he can receive news from Bristol at any given time. In fact, he should be close enough to Bristol so that it would not appear strange that he was trading with Emmet Scott.

However that did not change the problem of distance. Edward was confident that he could find the trail – it was only a week and a couple of days old – but where would that trail lead him? What should he do once he reaches his destination? Edward had no idea.

The only thing he could say for sure was that he could not go unarmed. And his pseudo-Hidden Blade did _not_ count as a real weapon. He needed something better. A sword, for example. Only that in this era people did not use the broadswords Altair and Ezio were so fond of; they were using the cutlass.

Edward thought that the cutlass was an interesting weapon. They were just narrower and thinner than a broadsword, with a slightly curved edge like a Chinese sword, as the one Sao Jun was using. The guard and the hilt was certainly something to pay attention to. The guard could protect the user's hand from being chopped off, but Edward feared that it could hinder the weapon's maneuverability. And as if the weapon itself being tricky was not enough, Edward had never actually gotten his hands on a cutlass. True, there were a few cutlasses sitting on the walls as decoration at "The Auld Shillelagh", but that did not count.

Last, but not least, Edward had his family to worry about. Sure, his parents could take care of themselves in case someone attacked them or something. His father seemed to be some sort of a master in combat – if his early childhood experiences were any indication – and his mother had one or two tricks in her sleeve as well. But that did not mean that his parents did not need him. Summer was coming close to an end and there was a whole bunch of different things they had to do during the fall in order to prepare for the winter. Winters were harsh in Bristol.

A demanding yell in Welsh shook him off his musings. "Edward! Come and help me with this Stuff!".

He inwardly groaned. "Mom, what you'll do with all those Apples?", he asked in the same language.

Lilinette stared at him as if he was a dump kid. "Why, eat Them, of course!".

"Three whole Baskets?".

"Yes.".

"Mom, we can't eat all those Apples before them rot.".

"You WILL eat Them, young Man.".

Edward shook his head. Sure, his mother _is_ of Italian origin – albeit a somewhat distant one, her great grandfather or something – but he would never understand those sudden cravings of fruits that she had. Where did she even find the money to buy them anyway?

Oh well. No matter what the case, Edward could not just leave yet – if he _could_ leave in the first place. Not without a word to his parents. Not without saying anything to Caroline. **[2]**

Time to deal with those baskets.

* * *

Odd as Mr. Bernard's advice may have sounded, Caroline decided to follow said advice and return home to do some research. The historical time period in her mind was quite striking and she remembered it from her classes when she was younger; the twelfth and thirteenth century were the peak and fall of the Crusades respectively. But why would Mr. Bernard tell her to look up _the Crusades_? That almost felt like ancient history. Not as ancient as some countries claim they have, but still. The idea that the strange red cross may be connected to something that old was both alarming and ridiculous at the same time. Perhaps she was just paranoid. Who knew?

And yet, that ridiculous sujestion was the best lead that Caroline had right now. Or more like, the _only_ lead. She would better follow it. Otherwise, she was pretty sure that Mr. Bernard would never give her any answers. And Caroline had a feeling that she was better off not pushing the matter.

Fortunately, the bookcase in her father's study was not the _only_ bookcase in the house. It was not long before Caroline was in her bedroom with the book she needed in hand. She thought about it for a moment and then she turned the page straight to the chapter about the Knightly Orders. There were more chances she finds the cross there than anywhere else.

Problem was, this was _not_ the same book Caroline was once using when she was taking History lessons. In fact, this book was much, _much_ older and that came with its own set of a while, Caroline started thinking that she would never find what she needed. The Knightly Orders in the book seemed to have been listed randomly, and as if that was not enough, there were no paintings in the book and therefore she could not make a comparison between them and the painting of the red cross. Caroline had to read the description of every single crest separately and then double-check it because the author's writing character was almost too calligraphic to be legible.

 _At this Rate, I'll have to reach the End before I find it!_ , thought Caroline in a foul mood.

Imagine her surprise when she was proven correct.

The letters here were even smaller and they were more _messy_ that calligraphic. Caroline could not help but notice that the pattern of the hand-written book had become greatly uneven: in most places the author seemed to be trying avoiding touching the paper while some other lines were so deep that they had _ripped through_ it. It was as if the author was afraid of writing. Or more than likely, afraid of what he was writing of.

Caroline had her curiosity peaked. She leaned closer, and started reading carefully.

" _No Other Knightly Order can gloat to have a Legacy as glorious and yet as gory and scandalous as the Knights of the Templar Order, with their Blood-red Cross which is said to be painted crimson with the Blood they have spilled."_. All the rest of the text, written in a noticeably more composed but still quite upset style, was historical information and details. The name of their most famous Grandmaster (Robert de Sable), the various Popes they had managed to nurture – quite a few of them – and the rules of the Order. **[3]**

However it was the details that caught Caroline's attention. An invasion to a fortress that Caroline had never read of before, mentions of members who were not even Christians to begin with, out of the blue murders among their ranks and strange activity in the Byzantine Empire? And as if all that was not enough, they just _vanished_ was very suspicious.

Why were there so many gaps in the history of the Templars? What were the Knights of the Templar Order fighting for if not for God? Why did they seek so much power?

She could not understand. According to the author, the blood-red cross was the symbol of the Knights of the Templar Order – the same symbol that her father was carrying. But what in the world did her father and the other rich merchants he was trading with had to do with a mysterious and bloodthirsty Knightly Order of the Crusades?

A thought froze Caroline. She did not know why she thought of that – but now that it did, it could not leave her mind. The seeds of doubt had already been planted there; and there was more than enough soil for them to nurture.

 _What if they aren't gone?_

* * *

 _ **Sample 17, Genetic Sequence 5.1: complete…**_

 _ **Synchronization rate: 100 %**_

 _ **End of simulation…**_

With a groan the young man quickly unplugged the Animus and with a groan he fell back on his chair. He had a pounding headache in his temple, and that only added to his irritation. "God, I did _not_ sign up for this shit…".

"Technically, you _did_.".

He turned around and his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. "Holy shit, when-!? Where the hell did you come from?".

The young woman – definitely older than _him_ though – shot him a deadpan. "My office is right next to yours.".

"Oh.". Now that he had somewhat calmed down, he could see her more closely. She was certainly… overdressed? The woman had long dark brown hair with silver and violet strands and matching dark colored eye shadow and black lipstick. She was also wearing an ash-grey sateen dress shirt with silver thread decorations that looked to be tailored. She was also wearing black jeans and black leather boots. He thought his own simple outfit of a blue "Stay Calm – keep your $#!+ together" T-shirt and simple torn jeans.

And decided that he was in greater need of a salary than _she_ was. "What are you doing here?", he asked a little irritated, throwing a gesture at the Abstergo Entertainment building in general.

"If it's my shirt you're looking at, my mom made it.".

"Oh. Um…". He rubbed his head awkwardly. _How to proceed…_ "Mike.", he stated, offering his hand.

"Hel.", she replied, taking his hand in a firm handshake.

" _Hell_?", he asked incredulously.

"With one 'l'".

 _That doesn't make it much better_ , he thought, remembering the Death Goddess of the Norse mythology. Spending hours in RPGs teaches you that kind of stuff. Speaking of which…

"Sorry. Just… I was put off by… this thing. Sorta expected the Animus to be like some visual reality RPG or a FPS, you know? This… this is not a game. This is nothing like a game.".

Hel nodded. "Yeah… You'd better take it easy with this thing. Give yourself some long breaks between those sequences. I have heard some _very_ strange things about this contraption.", she stated, tapping the screen of the Animus with a finger as if knocking a door.

"What kind of things?".

"Just read the instruction manual that the big heads gave you and you'll figure.". And with that mysterious comment, she walked away.

"Strange…". Still, checking out that manual sounded like a good idea. God knew how much he needed and aspirin right now…

A few pages later and he was seriously talking to his manager. What the hell was that "Bleeding Effect" thing? Getting sea sickness by reviewing memories? **[4]** And what the hell was with that other advice, "put your hand in a fire to make sure it's real"? **[5]** Are they _trying_ to freak him out?

"Well Hel, I sure hope you ain't right 'bout this…".

* * *

 **End of Part One**

* * *

 **Author notes: HA! HOW IS _THIS_ FOR A MIND-BLOWER!? Arlight, seriously now. At first I figured that I should stick three of my older chapters together because they were just inseperable, but then this chapter would become too long. However If I had left this chapter on its own, it would be too short. And, if that was not enough, this is pretty much a filler chapter. So, I kept looking for ways to make this chapter longer and I ended up adding details where they were not needed and suddenly I had a brainstorm and added a modern day section. I do not really expect the modern day section to affect the plot as it is more of a side story. However, I do suggest reading it, because I might pull a stunt at some point. I have not decided yet. Still, if you want to skip it, go ahead and do it. Modern day sections will only appear at the end of each sequence after all. **

**[1] Please take note of that. It will re-appear later on.**

 **[2] Yet another attempt to make progress in the EdwardxCaroline romance. I really believe that the Edward I write would take it more slowly. Now he can't get Caroline out of his head. Still, if you want _more_ romance you can look forward to the next chapter.**

 **[3] History facts. If you find it strange that the historian - a fictional one, by the way - writes and acts that way, remeber that historians back then were extremely biased and due to religion, afflications etc, they were many times completely incapable of offering an unbiased and "faceless" oppinion. That applies even to the modern day, due to censorship and the like, but it is nowhere as bad as it was back then.**

 **[4] That really was written on the screens in the modern day sections of Black Flag.**

 **[5] A salute to Vampire-Badger and the fanfic "Change my mind.". Never mind the fact that Vampire-Badger is not reading this... Shay Cormac in there states that _this_ was the worst advice he has ever heard. I'm inclined to agree.**


End file.
